


The Birthday Present to end all Birthday Presents

by colazitron



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Overstimulation, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-09
Updated: 2009-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris enjoys his birthday present very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Birthday Present to end all Birthday Presents

+++

“Well, Chris, only one more year to go before the big 3-0,” Zach grinned and then frowned at his own words. Chris snorted in laughter and didn’t even bother hiding it.

“Good for you we’re having dinner and not doing shots,” the blonde grinned and raised his glass in a mock salute before taking a sip of the admittedly delicious ice wine. Gewürztraminer if he remembered correctly. It went remarkably well with the simply panna cotta he was having for dessert.

“Seeing as this is your birthday dinner, it’s on me anyway”, Zach grinned.

“Thanks again for that,” he smiled.

He wasn’t a big fan of birthday bashes. Nor of mixing celebrating with friends and celebrating with family. It seemed weird to most people, but Chris’s birthday always followed a strict procedure. He met with his parents and sister for brunch on the day of his birthday and kept the afternoon free for any spontaneous shenanigans. For the last few years, the evenings were reserved for Zach. If any of his friends had the pressing need to throw him a party, they could do so after his birthday. He liked keeping to the circle of his closest friends and family and on his birthday he felt like he didn’t need to justify that.

“My pleasure,” Zach gave back setting down his fork just as Chris scooped up the last of his dessert too.

When their attending waitress offered to refill their glasses Zach respectfully declined for both of them causing Chris to raise a questioning eyebrow. Zach just grinned that smug and a little devious smirk that had alarm bells going off in Chris’ mind.

“Trust me, you don’t want to be drunk when you get home,” was all the explanation the older man offered though.

“You’re not throwing me a surprise party, are you?” Chris asked, his tone holding a little warning.

“Not exactly, no.” The grin was still there, a bit smugger even, if that was possible at all. Chris frowned.

“Zach, what the hell did you do to my place?” Zach had the keys to his house, after all. And Chris had been out all afternoon before meeting up with Zach.

“I didn’t do anything to your place, relax. I promise you’re going to like it,” Zach tried soothing him and then motioned the waitress over to ask for the cheque. He placed his credit card inside the leather tab and signed when it was brought back to them, all the while ignoring Chris who was trying to drill holes into his head with just his eyes.

At the young woman’s shy but adoring smile, he pulled a paper tissue out of his pocket and signed that too, before handing it to her with a wink. She smiled gleefully but remained professional, thanking him before wishing them a good night and reminding them to come back.

Once outside Zach shook his head, a splitting grin on his face at Chris’ thoughtful expression.

“You’re not going to figure it out, Chris; you might as well give up. That’s why it’s the best birthday present possible. You’re not going to believe it until the last minute but it’ll still rock your world”, Zach promised, steering Chris to his car.

“I’ll give you a lift, you’ll be there faster,” he offered, knowing Chris’ habit of walking home. He liked the cool evening air and the moments of peace and quiet it brought him. But today he didn’t complain and just got into the car.

“Did you get me a dog?” he guessed, as he buckled up and Zach started the engine.

“No, far better,” Zach grinned, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Two dogs?” Chris grinned, not meaning it and earning a laugh from Zach.

“You really aren’t going to guess it,” he repeated, but seemed amused by Chris’ ongoing tries anyway.

“If you got me a stripper then that’s just so high school,” Chris commented.

“Nope, still way better than a stripper.”

“A hooker?”

“Even better than a hooker.” By now Zach’s grin had settled on downright evil. Chris could feel how the curiosity buzzing inside him woke him up from the slightly sleepy, comfortable daze the dinner had put him in. He felt fidgety.

“A library full of first editions,” he chanced, knowing that it was ridiculous but according to Zach it was something he wouldn’t think of and even if he did wouldn’t believe.

Zach laughed again.

“Some man you are, rating a library higher than sex.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t,” Chris shot back. “I can tell you’re considering it for Christmas.”

“Of course I am that one’s actually a good idea. Still, I feel quite safe in saying that you’re going to like this one even better.”

“This has got to be the present to end all presents,” Chris concluded and settled on contemplatively staring out his window. Zach actually giggled at that. Well, as much as anything in that low baritone could be considered a giggle.

“It is, Chris, I promise you. This is one birthday you will not forget.”

They concluded the rest of the drive in companionable chatter about the restaurant, the food, the wine, Chris’ brunch with his family and making plans for tomorrow. The last part brought the knowing smirk back to Zach’s lips.

“Just call me tomorrow if you want to meet up and do something. I promise I won’t be mad if you don’t.”

“I am not going to bother to continue guessing,” Chris informed him.

“You don’t have to. This is your stop,” Zach grinned and pulled up into Chris’ drive way.

“Thanks again,” Chris smiled and unbuckled his seat belt.

“Anytime, amigo. There’s also a little something for you on the back seat. You might need it tonight. Open it when you’re inside, okay? And no cheating!” Zach grinned. Chris just raised a brow at the never-ending presents and got out of the car, opening the back door and reached for the medium sized package. It was wrapped in Zach’s trademark plain brown wrapping paper and had a red bow tied to it.

“Can I shake it?” he asked, closing the back door and stepping up to the passenger door up front.

“I wouldn’t,” Zach advised, leaning over a bit.

“Oh, Anton helped with this one, be sure to thank him too.” The grin on Zach’s face looked like a one way ticket to the deepest circle of hell. Chris furrowed his brows in confusion but decided not to take the bait. Zach was just going to be all enigmatic if he asked anyway.

“I will. See you tomorrow.” With one last nod to Zach, he stepped away from the car and reached into his pocket for his keys, listening to the sound of Zach backing out of his drive way. He looked back once more and gave a little wave at Zach, who waited for him to open his door, like he always did. A gentleman down to the last hair. Most of the time.

Chris let the door fall shut with a soft “click” behind him and toed off his shoes. He dropped his keys onto the side board and manoeuvred to the stairs in the dark. He switched on the light as he passed and started taking off the paper, wrapping the bow around his wrist.

It was a shoe box.

Only there weren’t shoes inside. Chris stared at the contents of the box in disbelief. He closed the box and re-opened it, feeling like an idiot when there were still the same items in it.

Lube, anal beads, handcuffs…

_… Anton helped with this one, be sure to thank him too…_

… bright red lipstick and a brush for application (“what…?” Chris wondered), a dildo, honey…

_… Even better than a hooker …_

… chocolate sauce, a piece of champagne coloured satin, edible body paint.

Chris swallowed and found himself suddenly overrun by mental images.

_Anton, handcuffed to his bed, writhing as Chris pushed the dildo into him. He was whimpering; little, helpless noises._

_There was a rush of “Chris, Chris, Chris, Chris” as he pushed into Anton from behind, remnants of chocolate clinging to Anton’s hips and lower back, his biceps and thighs. Chris knew there was more on his front._

_The anal beads slid in one by one, drawing abandoned moans from the young man. The satin over his eyes slipped a little but it was wide enough to still shield his eyes._

Chris drew a shuddering breath and found himself hard, standing in front of his bedroom door. His closed bedroom door. He never closed his bedroom door. There was an envelope taped to it.

Hands shaking a little, he reached for it and pulled it off. This could not be what he thought it was. He refused to get his hopes up and yet at the same time felt his traitorous body speed up his heart beat and pump yet more adrenaline into his blood stream.

There was no way this was anything other than Anton’s handwriting. He’d recognize these loops and waves that posed for letters anywhere.

_If we’re going to do this, there will have to be rules._  
I am not your puppy. I am not your boy. I will not call you “Sir” or “Master” or anything other than your name. I will not need a safe word, because when I say “stop” it means “stop”.  
Knock twice if Zach got it wrong and you want me to leave.  
Happy Birthday 

Zach had been right when he’d said that he wouldn’t believe it even if he knew. There was no way that Anton was waiting for him on the other side of this door. This had to be some sort of elaborate (and very tasteless) prank. There was just no way for this to be what Chris thought it was.

His hand was shaking even harder when he reached for the handle and slowly let the door swing open.

It seemed there was a way that Chris hadn’t considered. Because there on his bed, in plain view, he was. Anton Yelchin. On his knees and lower arms, his butt sticking into the air. Naked but for the brown packaging paper that enveloped his hips, covering his ass. A red ribbon was wrapped around them twice, tied into a bow.

If his life actually were a movie, Chris thought, he would have dropped the shoe box. As it was, he simply moved into the room with cautious steps, his eyes trained on the slender legs and _fucking gift-wrapped ass._

“Anton?”

Anton rose from the sheets – the comforter and blankets having been removed – stretching demurely until he kneeled and looked back at Chris over one of his shoulders, his hands resting on his pelvic bone.

“You didn’t knock”, he noted and gave Chris a once over that looked as scorching as Chris felt as he devoured Anton with his eyes.

Chris reached back to push the door closed, staring. He wanted to pinch himself to know that he was awake (even though he never quite got what that was supposed to prove, he ha dreamt pain before). He also wanted to pounce on Anton and ravish him within an inch of his life. But then, he also wanted to take his time, to savour this, to memorize the way Anton looked, the way he felt, the way he smelled, sounded, tasted.

He swallowed heavily. If this was real – and slowly but surely he accepted it was – then the possibilities… good God, they were endless.

Blinking, he felt his back hit the door, his eyes still fixed on the enticing young man on his bed (on his bed!), clutching to the shoe box ( _oh God, the shoe box_!) like a life line. Before he knew it his feet gave way and he slid down the door.

Anton watched him, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, before he caught himself and tugged the corners of his mouth up into a little smile.

“Please say something, Chris; I’m starting to feel kinda stupid over here.”

Chris answered with a little laugh and set the shoe box down next to himself. Then he rubbed his hands over his face before shooting Anton an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little overwhelmed. I mean, you’re…” He trailed off, gesturing towards Anton weakly with one hand. Anton allowed a tender smile for Chris’ nervousness and slowly and carefully turned around, so he could look at him more comfortably.

“So are you. And you’re not even naked yet,” he teased and slid down from the bed, until his knees hit the floor. Chris’ grin seemed easier this time. Anton moved, his hips shifting as little as possible as he crawled towards the older man. Nevertheless Chris found his heart rate speeding up and his eyes widen like they were trying to take in more of the sinful image before him.

“You’re sure about this?” he couldn’t help asking as Anton crawled up over his outstretched legs and knelt directly in front of him, hands resting on the very top of Chris’ thighs.

“Very sure,” he replied and leaned in until their lips were almost touching.

“Are you?”

Chris’ eyes flicked from the golden brown curls to those eyes he had finally just decided to call grey even if he wasn’t perfectly sure that’s what they were and lower still to the pale pinkish lips that seemed to draw him in the most of all. Maybe it was because he was used to seeing his own big, full, pink ones in the mirror every day that Anton’s smaller ones fascinated him more.

“Pretty much,” he whispered and tugged his gaze back up to connect it with Anton’s while he pushed his head forward the last inch to connect their lips also.

Anton’s lips were soft and not that much warmer than Chris’. It was almost like they weren’t there, in their first hesitant meeting. But then Anton’s eyes slipped shut and his lips opened, capturing Chris’ bottom one in between them and trapping them in the most delicious prison Chris had ever found himself in. Releasing a contented sigh, he lifted his hands and cupped Anton’s head in them, only just revelling at the softness of his hair somewhere in the far back of his mind.

They kissed tenderly, not quite with close-mouthed innocence but with all the carefulness and novelty the first kiss with someone new brought.

When Chris let one of his hands travel to the back of Anton’s head to draw him in closer the ribbon he had wrapped around his wrist tickled Anton’s bare shoulder and made him reflexively move to the side, out of reach of the strange sensation.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Tickles.”

Chris grinned at him and let go of his head to take the ribbon off his hand. Staring at Anton for a short moment, he undid the bow and tied it into Anton’s hair like a hair band. It wrapped around his head twice and still easily tied into a bow.

Anton merely held still for Chris and grinned at him a little devilishly when he was done.

“I knew you’d be into this kind of thing,” he said and captured Chris’ lips in another kiss.

“Is that why there’s lipstick in the box?” Chris asked, pushing Anton back a bit and imagining the bright shade of red on his lips. Anton smiled broadly, if still a little wickedly, and rewarded him with another kiss.

“Absolutely,” he then answered and sank his teeth lightly into Chris’ bottom lip. With each kiss they became less careful and more passionate, more acquainted with the corners of each other’s lips, until Chris felt there was a whole new world he had to go explore and pushed his tongue past the insignificant barrier of Anton’s pliant lips.

At this, one of Anton’s hands left its position on Chris’ thigh and slipped under his t-shirt, raking its nails over his stomach, scratching him a little before running up his chest, earning a few appreciative moans and groans.

The brown paper packaging paper rustled whenever Anton so much as shifted his weight and reminded Chris that he still had some un-wrapping to do. The grin this brought to his face made him break the kiss and brought a questioning smile onto Anton’s wet and swollen lips (almost to pretty to cover up with lipstick, Chris thought), when Chris pushed him back a little.

“I’m gonna go for the big present now,” he announced and received a low chuckle from Anton, who tucked his hands behind his back, out of Chris’ way.

“Be my guest,” he invited and observed the way Chris was almost reverent in reaching for the red ribbon with a fond smile.

There was a soft swushing sound when the bow came undone and the ribbon slid down over the smooth surface of the paper, resting low on Anton’s spread thighs. Chris’ hands spanned Anton’s ribcage before moving lower, his eyes following the movement of his hands before chancing a look down onto the ribbon that contrasted starkly with the paleness of Anton’s skin.

“Red is a really good colour for you,” he murmured and searched the paper for the scotch tape that held it together and kept it from slipping from Anton’s hips. Having found it, he let one finger slowly peel it from the paper, while keeping his eyes fixed on Anton’s face, watching the younger man bite on his bottom lip and watch Chris’ unpacking.

The paper rustled from being forced apart and a silent little snap signalled that the tape had been efficiently taken care of. Slowly, Chris pulled the brown paper off of Anton and dropped it to his left, his eyes still on Anton’s face, who looked up to meet his gaze.

“You can look, you know,” he assured and when Chris lowered his gaze to take in the expanse of milky skin that was almost unchanged from summer’s sun, it was his turn to watch Chris’ reactions.

The blonde licked his lips and trailed his hands over the hard angle of Anton’s hip bones, let his thumbs dive into the crease between thigh and pelvis. He felt his own breathing pick up just like Anton’s as his thumbs followed the downward diagonal, while his hands spanned the top of Anton’s thighs. The kid was by no means bony, but slender enough to look almost fragile beneath Chris’ larger hands.

He stopped shortly before reaching the nest of curls in between Anton’s legs and instead pulled the ribbon off of his thighs completely, dropping it next to them. The motion made the shoe box catch his eye and he reached inside to fish out the lipstick and brush with one hand, while the other still held on to Anton’s hip, his thumb slowly caressing the especially soft skin there. Anton watched silently and smiled his consent, when he saw what Chris was looking for.

“Open your mouth a little,” Chris instructed and Anton did as asked, his hands still clasped behind his back. Chris coated the brush in red colour on the tip of the lip stick and then brought it up to Anton’s lips, swallowing a little. He could feel the air that Anton softly exhaled brushing past his fingers as he touched the brush to his lips, starting to paint them a bright scarlet red.

Chris kept his gaze trained onto the vanishing pink and steadily painted more and more red onto Anton’s mouth. He was no expert when it came to make up, but he had the fleeting suspicion that it was no coincidence that this colour seemed to have been _made_ to cover Anton’s lips.

Chris could easily feel the shift in air current when Anton started breathing through his nose to keep it low. He would have never imagined that painting someone’s lips could be this erotic, but he was more than glad to be proven wrong. The red that now encompassed all of Anton’s lips was almost unholy and having been the one to put it there was like having bitten a hickey into his skin for everyone to see.

“Fuck,” Chris praised while he reached to put the lipstick and brush back into the shoe box. A grin spread out on his face at the sultry look Anton was giving him the red ribbon nestled in his curls, red lipstick decorating his lips.

“You’re like my own personal-” he stopped mid-sentence when his fingers came into contact with the smooth fabric in the box, breaking out into a grin as an idea came to him.

“Personal what?” Anton asked, amused by Chris’ distraction.

“I’ll spell it out for you,” Chris promised and lifted the piece of satin. “Close your eyes.”

An excited glow radiated from Anton’s eyes as he connected them with Chris’ shortly, before closing them as asked. Chris brought the fabric up to Anton’s face, careful not to touch the freshly painted lips and tied it securely over his eyes. It was wide enough to cover more than half of his face reaching up almost to his hair line and going as far down as the tip of his nose. Chris swallowed heavily at the sight and bit playfully at Anton’s jaw line before murmuring,

“If it didn’t require me to move, I’d take a picture of you so you can see how ridiculously gorgeous you look right now.”

Anton’s answering laugh was a little breathy.

“Aren’t you supposed to be spelling something,” he reminded him, making Chris chuckle as he reached for the blue edible paint. It promised to taste of blueberries and while Chris remained a little sceptic of that, he figured at least if it worked, he wouldn’t mind the taste of blueberries.

Opening the little tub, he dipped in the tip of his index finger and tenderly touched it to Anton’s chest. Anton inhaled a little startled breath before exhaling some of the tension anticipation had caused him to work up. He relaxed his arms and let his hands rest on top of his own thighs, lowering his hips to sit gingerly on top of Chris.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Sure,” Chris answered, not minding the weight in the slightest. “Now concentrate, there’s gonna be a quiz on this later.”

The bright red lips stretched into a teasing grin.

“But, sir, Billy could keep his uniform on for the test,” Anton chirped in a deceivingly innocent voice. Chris groaned and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Don’t give me any more ideas here,” he advised and pushed his finger up in a straight line. A diagonal to the right, downward. One up and a straight line down.

“M,” Anton said dutifully.

“Very good,” Chris praised and leaned down to lick the paint off. Encompassing one of the corners of the M he dragged his tongue over it and pulled back as if burned, almost missing Anton’s pleased intake of breath.

“God, this tastes disgusting,” he exclaimed and was glad that Anton couldn’t see the grimace his face had contorted into. Anton released a little laugh and shook his head. Chris could imagine the mirth that would be dancing in his eyes if he could look into them right now.

Instead he saw Anton’s knobby fingers run up over his own chest in search for some of the paint, presumably. Finding it, be brought them up to his mouth and Chris was far too transfixed by the way Anton slid one fingertip inside a wide open mouth, closing his lips around it and pulling it out clean of any traces of blue, but freshly smeared with red.

“Fuck, this _is_ disgusting,” he affirmed Chris’ earlier judgement. Now it was Chris’ turn to laugh.

“Told you,” he simply said and put the paint down. He looked at the blue mess on Anton’s chest helplessly for a moment before picking up the container with the paint again. Leachable. Good.

He pulled his t-shirt up over his head and touched it to Anton’s chest.

“Did you just get out of your t-shirt?” Anton asked, his head cocked to the side slightly, like it always was when he was trying to figure something out.

“Yeah,” Chris answered and wiped up the blue paint. Edible, my ass. _That_ was not edible. He ignored the little voice that questioned the label “leachable” as well.

“And you blindfolded me for that why exactly?” Anton questioned, the pout of his red, red lips just as audible in his voice. Chris chuckled.

“I hadn’t planned that part,” he admitted and chucked the t-shirt to the side.

“Remember your letter?” he asked and reached for the chocolate sauce. Nothing could go wrong with chocolate.

“M,” Anton repeated and sat up straighter for Chris to paint on.

Squirting some of the sauce into his left palm, he traced the index finger of his right hand through it before bringing it to Anton’s skin. Dark brown was a far better colour on him anyway.

A diagonal to the right, up, one down. A little horizontal line connecting them.

“A,” Anton stated.

“Mhm,” Chris confirmed and again lowered his head to lick up all traces of this letter. The bitter-sweetness of the dark chocolate sauce seemed to be even more delicious after the disastrous “blueberry” body paint. Chris rumbled his delight at the taste low in his throat and passed the vibrations on to Anton. The younger man sighed contently and lifted hid hands, blindly reaching for the other and following the trail of his shoulders and neck up to his head, he carded his fingers through his hair.

“If your lips weren’t so pretty in red, I’d kiss you so you could taste this too,” Chris whispered, lips lingering on Anton’s now damp skin.

“That can be arranged,” Anton grinned and took one hands off Chris’ head to reach for his mouth. Before he did though, Chris caught his wrist and positively growled.

“Don’t you dare,” he threatened.

“Or what?” Anton challenged and Chris was sure he had raised an eyebrow behind the satin.

“Or we’re gonna have to do this all over again.”

“Seriously, I wouldn’t mind that much,” he grinned, but relaxed his hand in Chris’ grip. Chris looked from the knobby fingers in his one hand to the chocolate on the palm of the other and pulled on Anton’s hand to have them meet.

“C’m on,” he urged, a childish grin spreading out over his face. Anton unknowingly mirrored his expression but let his fingers be dipped into the chocolate sauce.

When Chris released his hand, he brought it up to his mouth, opening his lips wide, just like he had done for the body paint, and messily licked them clean. He swirled his tongue around each finger before sucking them into his mouth and slowly pulling them back out one by one. The blindfold and still bright red lips weren’t making the display any more innocent.

Chris felt his breath catch in his throat.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he accused and upon Anton’s smirked “of course I am” he teasingly rubbed a nipple in between his thumb and index finger. Anton gasped, the one hand reflexively tightening in Chris’ hair, the other freed from its warm and moist prison.

“That’s cheating,” Anton complained. “I’m not even touching you.”

“Yeah, but you can’t see me either,” Chris answered. Anton let out a little laugh at that.

“Pretty confident, Pine,” he remarked.

“Hush, you,” Chris pouted and coated his fingertip in chocolate again.

“Attention now,” he demanded and slid over Anton’s skin again. A straight line up, a half circle to the right and a diagonal to the left, downward.

“R?” Anton guessed and Chris couldn’t help the rising of his eyebrow.

“You’re way too good at this,” Chris said as he reached for the chocolate sauce, pouring some more into his palm.

Anton grinned and Chris started licking off the chocolate again.

“I’ve had practise. Well, not exactly like this, but still..” Being a little distracted at the moment, Chris contented himself with replying by a little rumbled noise that had Anton answering it with one of his one, as the vibrations ran along his skin and tickled in the most pleasant way.

The next letter was a simple straight line from Anton’s belly button up all the way to his neck.

“That’s a pretty big I,” Anton commented before Chris touched his tongue to the white skin and licked the letter up in one long sweep. There were chocolate remnants over most parts of Anton’s chest by now, but since Anton didn’t have to read the letters, Chris figured he could still change that later.

The next one was easy also. A downward line and then a horizontal one, shorter, to the right.

“L,” Anton stated and Chris caught the relaxed and expectant grin on his lips for a moment, before he obligingly lent down. This time though, he cleaned it up with little sucking motions, dragging his tongue along in between his open lips, listening to and feeling the heavier breaths Anton let out.

The next was a little more difficult as it required Chris to draw it in two strokes. A little v and a downward line from where the two diagonals met. He looked up into Anton’s face expectantly and saw his jaw tense in the first moment of hesitation in this game.

“Y?” he asked more than he stated.

“Yeah,” Chris confirmed and was pretty sure that Anton had already guessed what he was spelling. But, hey, if he wanted the remaining letter, he’d get it. Chris surely wouldn’t deny them both the pleasure of drawing chocolate letters onto his chest. He reached for the chocolate sauce again and poured a generous amount onto his hand.

He quickly lapped up the chocolate on Anton’s skin and then coated two fingers in chocolate and drew a broad line up the right side of Anton’s chest, stopping at his nipple and massaging a bit of the chocolate into the hardened nub. Anton groaned at the sensation and tensed. A downward diagonal brought Chris’ fingers in a straight line below Anton’s other nipple. Chris followed the upward trail and coated this one in chocolate as well, earning himself a whimper this time and the shifting of Anton’s hips.

Chris grinned.

“What’s that spell?” he whispered and lapped up the remaining chocolate of his palm.

“Marilyn,” Anton answered and the grin on his face had a softer note to it, like he was proud to be compared to her.

“And I’m hoping you mean Monroe and not Manson,” he stated. Chris snorted in amusement.

“Yeah, I do. Which is why you need this,” he explained before touching the tip of his index finger to Anton’s left cheek, right below the blindfold leaving a bit of chocolate that posed as her famous birth mark. Anton chuckled.

“Open your mouth,” Chris asked and when Anton did he pushed both his chocolate coated fingers inside and watched transfixed as Anton licked them clean, a pleased smile tilting his lips upwards a little. Anton was thorough, swirling his tongue around and in between Chris’ fingers, alternately licking and sucking, hollowing his cheeks and most probably deliberately giving Chris mental images of other things.

His jeans were definitely in the way for any proceedings now.

“God, I love your lips,” Chris confessed and pulled his fingers out of Anton’s mouth to place both of his hands onto his hips.

“You want me to suck you off while they’re this red?” Anton suggested, a sultry grin accompanying his voice. Chris shuddered internally in anticipation at the thought.

“Later,” he said. “First I want to watch you come. Get up; we’re relocating to the bed.”

Anton got to his feet carefully as he was still robbed of one of his senses, relying on Chris’ hands that led him to the bed.

“Get comfortable,” Chris merely said and then his hands were gone from Anton’s skin and for a moment a feeling of dread washed over him. Not being able to see when he couldn’t feel Chris either was kind of really not that great. Never the less, Anton climbed onto the bed slowly and lied down on his back. He could here fabric rustling and guessed that Chris was undressing.

“I can’t believe you’re not letting me watch you strip,” he complained. The grin that took over his face betrayed him though.

“You’ll get to see me naked later,” Chris promised and collected the box from the floor, setting it down on the bed. He crawled onto the mattress and in between Anton’s legs, touching a hand to his knee to let him know that he was back and most probably going to touch him now. Then he unceremoniously lent down and started licking of the big chocolate N.

Anton let out a contented sigh at the sensation and one of his hands reached for Chris’ head, raking its fingers through his hair slowly, matching the pace of his languid licking. The chocolate had started to dry into Anton’s skin and Chris used his teeth to scrape it off the younger man where his insistent licking wasn’t enough.

The attention Anton’s body was receiving was now very easily visible in the way his cock was fully erect and strained up against his stomach. When Chris brushed it with his chest while he was immersed in his cleaning, Anton would lift his hips ever so slightly, seeking more of the friction. Chris’ hand trailed Anton’s free arm and he interlaced their fingers with each other while his other hand came to rest on Anton’s rib cage.

A groan pushed its way past Anton’s lips when Chris starts sucking and licking and nibbling off the chocolate he had earlier on taken extra care to massage into the younger man’s nipples. The hand in Chris’ hair gripped tighter and the fingernails of the other one bore down into the back of Chris’ hand.

“Bastard,” Anton huffed in between heavy breaths. “You totally did that on purpose earlier.”

Chris chuckled, deliberately not removing his mouth from Anton’s skin.

By the time he had licked up the rest of the chocolate and gotten to work on the other nipple, the movement of Anton’s hips was nowhere near slight anymore. Chris’s hand had slid down and dug into Anton’s hips, doing its best to keep him from rubbing his erection against Chris’ chest.

“Chris, come on,” Anton almost whined, bucking against Chris’ weight and pulling on his hair.

“No. There are so many ways I can do this and I haven’t decided on one yet.”

“How about you – oh! – stop torturing me,” the younger man suggested through gritted teeth.

“But I’m having so much fun,” Chris purred, letting his tongue circle Anton’s nipple. “And it’s my birthday.”

Anton’s breath stopped for a moment or two, before he let out something that would have been a laugh, if it weren’t for his breathlessness.

“I can’t believe you actually just said that.”

Chris nibbed at Anton’s skin lazily, mulling ideas over in his head. Blow Anton? Finger him?

“It always worked on Katherine.” A hand job maybe? He dug his teeth into the upper most pronounced abdominal muscle and mulled this over in his head.

Anton’s entire body halted. Chris released the skin from in between his teeth and looked up to Anton’s face even though he still couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t have to though, the disbelief was easily detected in his voice.

“Jesus, you’re thinking of your sister right now? Man, I’m not even commenting on that.”

Chris raised an eyebrow Anton couldn’t see, accompanied by a smirk that was just as invisible to the younger actor. He could probably hear them in Chris’ reply though.

“You just did though.” What could he do? He’d always been kind of a smartass.

Anton groaned. And not in a good way this time.

“Chris, damnit, are you gonna debate rhetoric with me now or get me off anytime soon. Cause if not I just might have to do it myself!” Whether it was supposed to be a promise or a threat, Chris didn’t know. It didn’t really matter either as the idea easily wiped all his own previous ones from his mind. He rewarded Anton with a kiss to his belly before lifting himself up to one onto his lips lightly too.

“You do that. I’ll be right here, keeping close watch,” he whispered and sat back in between Anton’s thighs, lifting both of them up over each of his own, running his hands along their inside.

Anton didn’t bother checking whether Chris actually meant that. Not when he was this worked up. Chris’ smooth caressing of his legs really didn’t help alleviate the thrum of arousal that coursed through his veins either and so he just licked the palm of one of his hands and brought it down to where he would rather have had Chris’ hands.

Chris watched fascinated as Anton’s hands moved along himself methodically. He watched the way his mouth fell open, but Anton’s breathing was still barely audible. He revelled in the way it seemed to catch in his throat and made Anton actually stop breathing when he was getting closer.

His own hands travelled up and down Anton’s thighs, itching to participate or touch himself and at the same time the image Anton displayed was just too hot to mess with. His head had rolled to the side and he was pressing his face down into the sheets. His chest was sporadically sinking and rising with breaths that demanded to be in- or exhaled while he still mostly held his breath. His hips had risen off the bed, more of his weight resting on Chris’ thighs. His free hand clutched the sheets hard, while the other brought him inevitably closer to completion with practiced ease.

There was no indication of Anton’s orgasm but for a little shock that ran through his entire body no more than a second before he came into his own hand.

Anton’s chest heaved as he exhaled a laboured breath he had been holding in for longer than would probably be considered healthy. A chain reaction ran through his muscles, one after the other relaxing, slackening until his hips sunk back down to rest on the sheets, his fingers relaxed slightly and gave up their hold on the white fabric and a satisfied smile stretched his lips. The only thing erratic were his breaths that still escaped his lungs too quickly and made him chase after new ones.

“Please tell me you’re not into auto-asphyxia,” Chris asked, worry colouring his voice and furrowing his brow. Anton laughed a little.

“No, I’m just not into making my parents listen either,” he explained with a grin.

“Good, ‘cause that’s dangerous, you know?” Chris murmured and decided to ignore the sudden “God, he’s so _young_ ” as he reached for Anton’s sullied hand, bringing it up to his mouth.

“Oh God, Chris,” Anton almost whispered when he tentatively licked at the palm. Well, it wasn’t chocolate, but it was bearable. Especially considering the abandoned way those sinfully red lips fell open, speaking of pleasure as strongly as moans could have. He lapped up the white fluid from Anton’s palm and fingers, sucking each of the digits into his mouth, before his own arousal demanded he do something to alleviate it.

Zeroing in on Anton’s lips and remembering his earlier words got him an approving twitch from his cock. Releasing the captive hand, he reached for Anton’s lips and pushed his index finger into the bottom one.

“Does that offered blowjob still stand?” he asked.

“I guess it does,” he grinned as his fingers reached the tip of Chris’ erection. Running his fingers over the tip he sat up slowly and was immediately grateful that abs had more use than their aesthetic appeal. Never the less he appreciated Chris’ hands that pulled on his shoulders.

“Undo the blindfold or hand me the box,” he asked when he was sitting up. The irritation he had felt at it earlier had by now declined to the sheer inconvenience it posed, but if Chris wanted him to wear it, he wouldn’t object.

“Would you ... mind keeping it on?” Chris asked, almost shyly and coaxed a smile onto Anton’s lips.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’m getting used to it. But you’re gonna have to help me relocate then. Lie back and hand me the box,” Anton said and scooted backwards so he could take his legs off of Chris’. When he had moved, he felt the mattress shift under Chris’ moving weight and then there were hands on his hips turning him around. As Chris lay back, he dragged Anton with him and led his hand to the shoe box. He watched Anton search the box blindly until he held up a jar.

“What’s this?” he asked, probably not wanting to end up with the body paint.

“The honey,” Chris answered. Anton grinned.

“Perfect,” he commented. He scooted back a little so the bending would go easier, before opening the jar and scooping out some honey with his hand.

Chris groaned at the prospect but possessed enough presence of mind to take the jar and lid from the younger man and close it before setting it aside. As soon as he was convinced it wouldn’t run out if it fell over his gaze flicked back to watch Anton coat his knobby fingers in the golden liquid.

A thought passed through Chris’ mind and he voiced it, before he even had the time to fully grasp it’s meaning.

“I’ve never heard you play the piano before.”

Anton sighed.

“First your sister, now the piano. I’m starting to think you might not want me to blow you,” Anton grinned and reached his hands down, sliding over Chris’ sking quickly to coat his erection in honey like maybe he had to convince him to stay right where he was.

Chris groaned when Anton pulled back his foreskin and leant down to take a tentative lick. He figured that was enough of an answer. Anton hummed a little reply before letting his lips glide down the underside of Chris’ cock, suckling a little, before dragging his tongue back up with a decisively bigger amount of pressure.

One of Chris’ hands buried itself in his own hair, as he didn’t trust himself to hold on to Anton and not force him to go deeper, faster. When Anton started sucking, hollowing his cheeks, bobbing his head and taking Chris in a little further every time he lowered his head, Chris knew he wouldn’t last long.

Anton’s taste still lingered on his tongue and he couldn’t look away from his lips as they stretched around his dicks, lipstick smearing, no “kiss resistant” possibly being able to stand this continued abuse. They glistened from honey and saliva, contrasting so prettily against Anton’s pale skin and the satin blindfold. Chris could only imagine the expression behind the solid champagne and he didn’t know what would turn him on more, not seeing Anton’s eyes or seeing them.

Then honey and saliva ran down his skin, teasing him as slowly as only gravity could adding to the tension. Anton’s honey covered hands slid lower, one tugging on and toying with his balls, the other sliding further back, making Chris open his legs and bend them to give him easier access.

“Oh God,” he moaned, clenching and unclenching his free hand while the other clung to his hair, making his scalp burn.

Anton started humming and drew Chris further in, going as far as Chris thought he could, and then stopped, ceasing all movements for a heatbeat or two, Chris felt himself hold his breath.

_Ba-thum. Ba-thump._

Then, in one fluid motion, Anton took him in to the root, exhaling heavily.

Chris felt a whimper pass by his lips and he balled his hands into fists, bringing the otherwise unoccupied one up to his mouth and biting down in his knuckles. Anton swallowed and rubbed his finger tip over Chris’ perineum, earning a sharp intake of breath and Chris’ hips bucking up into him. He made a dissatisfied sound somewhere in the back of his throat, sending vibrations all over Chris’ over-sensitized skin.

“Anton, I’m-” Chris gasped and kept his hands in his hair and mouth, at a safe distance from Anton’s head, his hips and thighs shaking from the effort of not thrusting forward and it was all so _hotwetwarmwight_ and then his world burst into _blisshappyyes!rightheretightnow_ before slowly flowing back together. He felt his spent dick sliding from Anton’s mouth and looked down at him realising as Anton licked his lips that there was no mess of cum anywhere. He groaned low in his throat, reaching out to Anton and pulled him up towards himself.

Anton crawled up over his body, a Cheshire grin on his lips as he lowered himself down onto Chris. Chris leant up and bit at that grin, delighted that Anton returned the gesture. Pulling back a little, he ran a hand over the arch of Anton’s spine and mumbled through his kisses,

“I’m gonna get you off without even touching your dick.”

Anton quietly moaned his approval, and pressed his hips down into Chris’

“Ah, to be 20 again,” Chris joked at the slight hardness pressing into his skin and grabbed Anton’s ass with both hands, spreading the cheeks a little. Anton gasped at the sensation, searching for Chris’ lips again. Chris evaded him.

“Have you...? You’ve done this before, right?” Chris murmured and felt Anton’s cheek shift against his.

“Yeah, I have,” he assured, pushing back into Chris’ hands for emphasis.

“Good,” Chris whispered, sliding his hands up to Anton’s hips. “Lie on your stomach.”

Anton did as told, lying down on his stomach next to Chris who turned and pushed himself up a bit to press a kiss in between Anton’s shoulder blades.

“If anything is too much, just tell me to stop and I will,” Chris promised and Anton nodded slightly. Sitting up fully, Chris reached for the shoe box and fished out the long red ribbon. He climbed up over the younger man and gently tucked out his arms from under his head, twisting them so he could hold the lower arms together over his back, just like Anton had held himself when Chris had ‘unpacked’ him.

Anton’s breathing picked up visibly and goose bumps ran down his spine when Chris began to wrap the ribbon around his arms methodically, binding them together.

“Don’t worry,” Chris said. “I’m not going to make you do anything other than lying back and enjoying.”

Tying the two ends together, Chris watched Anton’s muscles and fingers flex as he tested the strength of the bonds.

“I could probably get out,” he informed Chris. Chris smiled and leaned down to place another kiss in between his shoulder blades before dragging his lips up over his skin to his ear and nibbling on it lightly.

“Good,” he whispered.

“I don’t want you to have to stay; I want you to want to stay. I want to find out where every last one of your buttons is and then push them. I want to taste your skin and memorize the feel of it. I want to fill your head up with so much pleasure it spills out through those lips of yours and I want my mind to catch it and forget about everything but you.”

Anton swallowed heavily and a shiver ran through his entire frame.

“Big words,” he whispered, the thick layer of arousal betraying his want and anticipation.

Chris chuckled. Then he got off of Anton and slid one of his hands down his back, letting it rest on his ass.

“Spread your legs and get on your knees,” he asked. Anton’s breath faltered for a moment and returned more deliberate, but he slowly inched his legs apart and wriggled around to get onto his knees. When he was settled, Chris moved around him, sitting down in between his legs.

Chris didn’t need to ask Anton whether he was nervous, it was pretty obvious. He didn’t want to ask either because that would have been a dead give-away of his own nervousness. So he just silently reached for the shoe box and took out the lube. Squirting some of it onto his palm, he tried to ignore the voice in his head that was having a little _ohmyGodyou’reactuallydoingthisohmyGodAntonohmyGod!!_ freakout.

Rubbing the clear gel between his hands to warm it up a little, he leaned forward to press a kiss to Anton’s left ass cheek. Anton flinched a little, but Chris chalked it up to surprise. Leaning back, he reached out with one hand and trailed a finger down the cleft, smearing lube along Anton’s skin. He circled the little hole and tried to keep his breathing as low and shallow as possible so he could listen to all the delicious little gasps and changes in Anton’s breathing.

Pushing his finger in got him the surprised opening of Anton’s mouth.

Wriggling it around a little a breathy “Chris”.

Pushing in further made Anton’s skin heat up and the flush was visible on the little that could still be seen of his cheeks as well as his neck. Definitely a sight to behold, if you asked Chris.

Matching Anton’s quickening breathing pattern, Chris pushed his finger in and out, curling it every now and then, until Anton had loosened up around him and it moved comfortably. Biting his lip and feeling his own heart beat and breathing pick up, Chris slowly added a second finger, pushing both in all the way and then stopping for a moment to give Anton time to adjust.

Apparently too much time.

“C’mon,” the younger man encouraged and licked his open lips. His breathing was still shaky, but Chris could hear that he was trying to control it, taking deeper, slower breaths.

He scissored his fingers and heard Anton falter. Moving them in opposing little circles inside him got him a surprised mewl. It also made his fingers ache from having to push against Anton’s muscles, but he really didn’t want to hurt him and what was a little pain in his fingers compared to the buzzing that started up in his ears at the lewd image before him?

Anton’s hips started pushing back against his fingers. Chris took it as encouragement to push in another finger, stretching him out further with all of them. Anton groaned at a particularly daring stretch but seemed not in the least opposed to the treatment. Chris twisted his fingers a little more, pushing and touching at each angle he could until finally he found that spot he knew would drive Anton crazy.

He brushed his fingers over his prostate lightly, revelling in the urgent “Chris!” it got him.

“Like that?” he asked unnecessarily. Anton’s head moved up and down a little on top of the sheets, his breath trying to return to uneven panting when Chris pushed against the bundle of nerves again and again.

“Oh yeah, you do,” Chris decided, pushing his fingers just a little too far to the left, not quite on it. Anton mewled, displeased, and tried pushing his hips against Chris’ fingers so he could have the delicious sensation back. Chris moaned low in appreciation of Anton’s want, but decided to tease him a little more, removing his fingers an inch, making it impossible for the younger actor to make Chris touch him where he wanted to.

“Look at you,” Chris praised. “You’re enjoying this so much. Your muscles are pulling at my fingers. Are you imagining my dick in there, hm?”

Anton moaned low in his throat and Chris smiled a little, glad that he wasn’t the only one enjoying his babbling.

“You’re gonna have to wait for that a little longer though,” he said, reaching for the dildo in the shoe box. Holding it between his thighs, he smeared the lube from his other hand onto it.

“Maybe I should make you beg for it,” he suggested. Anton growled in warning and Chris chuckled low in his throat.

“I thought you’d say that. Luckily I don’t particularly want to hear you beg anyway. I want to hear you come apart.”

He pulled out his fingers and quickly reached for the lube, spreading more of it on the toy in between his legs. His gaze flitted up to the little puckered hole that granted him entrance to Anton’s body, watching it clench and unclench periodically.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed and Anton smiled a relaxed little smile, before Chris pushed the toy’s blunt head against his sphincter muscles. Deep breaths spoke of Anton trying to relax. Chris stroked his free hand up and down the outer side of the younger man’s thigh, trying to help him while slowly pressing the dildo inside.

Anton’s muscles gave way slowly but nevertheless surely. Chris moaned low in throat at the toy disappearing inside the other and tried angling it so it would push into Anton’s prostate as soon as it was in deep enough. Judging from the jerk of Anton’s hips soon after, Chris had gotten lucky.

He languidly moved the toy in and out of Anton, drinking up all the little gasps and laboured breaths Anton didn’t quite hold in. The slender hips started to move back against his motions and Chris matched the movements so that Anton’s efforts resulted in the opposite of what he wanted; in less than more stimulation.

“Chris,” Anton huffed, slightly annoyed. “Don’t tease.”

“But I’m only just getting started,” Chris grinned. “You didn’t set up a no-teasing rule.”

Slowing down the movement of his hand, but making sure to hit Anton’s prostate dead on each time, he leaned down a little, attaching his mouth to the round swell of Anton’s buttock. He latched onto the skin with his lips and teeth, worrying it into a deep red colour. He dragged his tongue over the slightly salty skin and sunk his teeth into it before sucking it into his mouth, slowly bruising him.

Anton’s thighs started shaking.

“Chris, wha-?” he breathed. Chris just hummed contently and kept stirring up Anton’s insides with the dildo, while his mouth marked him. His eyes fluttered close, before re-opening to look sideways at the toy disappearing and re-appearing directly next to his face.

“Chris. Chris, what are you-?” Anton tried asking again, but ended his question in a loud hiss as Chris pushed the toy right into his prostate and lingered a little.

“You’re mine,” Chris growled, his lips still against the younger man’s skin. He dragged his tongue over the reddish blemish.

“For tonight, you’re mine.” His voice was too heavy. Anton’s hips jerked back against him and Chris’ cock twitched his appreciation.

“Think you can take a little more?” Chris asked, his hot breath ghosting over the wet patch on Anton’s skin, confusing the hell out of his senses that were trying to deal with the lack of vision and over-stimulation from the dildo at the same time.

“I..” Anton started, but got lost in a shaky deep breath that had Chris chuckling again.

“I think you can,” he decided and leaned back up, noticing the wet spot that was forming on the sheets from were a little pre-cum dripped from Anton’s cock onto them.

Letting go of the toy shoved into Anton’s ass, he reached down to touch his own dick, finding it hard and pulsing with want. Maybe this wasn’t just about how much Anton could take, but also about how much he himself could take. But, oh well, he was 29 he had a lot more stamina than his younger partner so he wasn’t worried.

Reaching for the shoe box again he ignored the twisting of Anton’s hips.

“Chris,” the younger one murmured insistently.

“Shh,” Chris answered him, reaching out one hand to soothingly stroke the slope of his ass and the small of his back once. “Hang on a second.”

He quickly squirted some more lube onto his by now a little sticky hands and then coated the semi-flexible anal beads in it. Anton was biting his lips, gnawing the remaining lipstick off and the muscles of his ass were reflexively clenching and unclenching around the intrusion.

Regarding the beads as thoroughly coated, Chris reached for the dildo and pulled it out almost all the way, aligning the beads next to it and slowly pushing the first one in.

“Oh my God,” Anton breathed. His hands grabbed onto his elbows as much as they could and Chris was pretty sure his toes were curled. Chris pushed the second one in along with the dildo that bumped into the sensitive bundle of nerves lightly, making Anton’s thighs shake again.

Chris pulled the dildo back out again, pushing the third bead in along with it. Anton jerked and whimpered. Encouraged, Chris picked up the speed a little, repeating the action with the fourth, fifth, sixth bead. Anton’s whimpers grew more and more desperate and even though it appeared he didn’t know where to move his hips, he couldn’t seem to keep them still either. He must have been terribly close by this point. Chris himself felt his cock demanding attention. He purposely avoided Anton’s prostate now.

He pushed in the seventh bead in the same fashion and the heady little whimpers he earned made him believe that even if Anton’s reflexes hadn’t told him to try and stay quiet he probably wouldn’t have been able to articulate any other way now anyway.

He pushed against Anton’s prostate forcefully with the eighth bead, earning a surprisingly loud yelp and started pulling them back out intently, but slowly with every outward motion of the dildo, now hitting Anton’s prostate every time he pushed back in.

The eighth was accompanied by heady mewls, seven and six had changed to gasps, the fifth and fourth were accompanied by Anton’s hips jerking forcefully and something that might have been Chris’ name, three sounded like a sob and Anton’s hips weren’t even jerking anymore, only shaking as hard as his thighs. Chris was sure Anton’s arms would have given out had they been holding him up in the first place.

When Chris moved the dildo back in to retrieve the second bead, he pushed up against Anton’s prostate a little stronger and Anton tensed as he came, his mouth open, is breathing stopping entirely while Chris moved back out, drawing the bead with him. Pushing back in, Anton started breathing again, gasping. The last bead was drawn out with the outward motion, but Chris still pushed the dildo back in, pushing up against his prostate and milking his orgasm. His own dick revelled at the noises and movements coming from the other man.

Anton was over-stimulated and when Chris hit his prostate again the noise coming from him was a definite sob and he tried shaking his head as well as he could in his current position. Somewhere very far in the back of his mind something told Chris that maybe that shouldn’t turn him one more. That maybe he shouldn’t pull out the toy only to push his own dick into him.

But he stilled, when Anton shook his head again and smoothed his hands up over his sides soothingly, reaching for the ribbon around his hands and untying it. He murmured a string of “it’s okay” while he carefully unwrapped Anton’s arms and brought them to his sides slowly so as not to upset the rigid muscles. He rubbed his hands’ over Anton’s biceps a few times before reaching out and undoing the knot of the blind fold as well and taking it off him.

He slid his hands underneath Anton’s chest and pulled him up, pressing his back flush against his chest.

Anton’s head rolled back, resting on his shoulder, his whole frame being wracked by shaky breaths and the occasional sob. The area around his eyes was damp and if Anton’s muscles hadn’t still constantly clenched around his dick, his erection probably would have waned.

As it was, he smoothed his hands down Anton’s chest and up over his sides, rubbed his arms and pressed little chaste kisses to his neck, shoulder and the side of his face he could reach.

“You’re okay,” he whispered and was relieved at Anton’s breathing pattern calming down. One of the knobby hands reached for his own, squeezing it shortly.

“Holy shit,” Anton whispered, a slow smile spreading out over his lips. Chris allowed himself to chuckle and thrust shallowly into Anton. The grip on his hand immediately tightened again.

“Gimme a minute,” Anton asked and Chris grinned, wondering whether it really would be just a minute. At Anton’s age that wasn’t even improbable.

He pulled his hand free and reached for the chocolate sauce in the shoe box. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Anton look at it warily, but so long as he didn’t complain Chris figured he was free to use him as a canvas.

Putting his hands out in front of them both he squeezed a generous amount of the chocolate on an upturned palm. Anton took the bottle from him and snapped it shut before tossing it aside. He dipped his fingers into the chocolate together with Chris’ hand and this time Chris was pretty sure the pressure around his dick was on purpose.

Groaning he touched his finger to Anton’s wrist, Anton mimicking the motion on his arm that was still outstretched and held the rest of the chocolate in his palm. Drawing his fingers up into the hollow of Anton’s elbow, he felt the younger man do the same to his arm.

When he continued up in a sinuous line, Anton did the same. Reaching for more chocolate, he met Anton’s fingers in the brown syrup. The dots he painted along Anton’s forearm were mirrored on his own.

Grinning to himself, he reached for Anton’s chest and drew a circle around Anton’s right nipple. Anton scoffed a little amused breath but mimicked this action on his own left nipple only shortly after.

Chris twisted the little pinkish bud in between his thumb and finger, rubbing chocolate into it, watching transfixed as Anton did the same to the other. Both their breathing picked up this time and when Chris dared another thrust upwards, Anton met him and pushed back into him.

“You really meant that minute, huh?” he mumbled and bit at Anton’s ear lobe. Anton chuckled a little breathlessly.

“I’m trying,” he answered Chris reached his hand down to carefully palm Anton’s only mildly interested dick. Anton sucked in a sharp breath and jerked his hips back. Chris only covered the flaccid organ with his hand and watched as Anton brought the still chocolate covered palm to his mouth, licking the sweet off.

They both moaned when his tongue started slipping in between Chris’ fingers messily and he sucked each digit in between his lips. Chris in turn brought Anton’s arm up and started lapping up the chocolate there. Anton started meeting all of Chris’ slow thrusts and damn being 29 and having stamina, Chris was having a really hard time holding back.

He let go of Anton’s arm to squeeze the slowly responding dick in his palm and let the low moan that washed over him at that warm his nerves.

Anton released his hand and Chris ran both of them up the slightly smaller but wiry muscled ones, spreading the last remnants of chocolate over his skin. Running his hands down over his chest, he gripped Anton’s hips and testily pulled him back against his thrust more forcefully.

Anton let him.

Chris moaned.

“It’s okay,” Anton whispered, a little out of breath; still or again Chris couldn’t tell.

“You can,” he permitted and leaned forward onto his hands, rising up and drawing Chris with him, attached at the hips as they were. Chris’ hands gripped Anton’s hips tighter and he pushed into him vigorously, hitting Anton’s prostate dead on and getting him back into an aroused state easily.

“Don’t hold back,” Anton whispered and Chris was pretty sure it was for his sake more than for Anton’s own, but he drove into him a little harder anyway, leaning forward to sink his teeth into the flesh over Anton’s shoulder, making him cry out sharply.

He slowed his thrusts to more shallow ones, wanting to draw this out longer and waited for Anton’s hips to push back into his own more enthusiastically.

Only then did he pull back out almost entirely, before driving forward, ramming into Anton’s prostate, revelling in the desperate intake of breath. He pushed himself back up, using Anton’s hips as leverage and repeated the action, drawing another sharp breath from the younger one. Again, again.

Anton’s arms gave out and he fell onto his lower arms.

Chris drove forward again, hitting his prostate and stilled. Anton whined.

“Chris,” he mewled when it became obvious that Chris didn’t plan on continuing to move and tried twisting his hips to gain the delicious friction back. The unrelenting grip Chris had on his hips made that exceedingly difficult.

“You close?” Chris unnecessarily asked, leaning forward so his body shadowed all of Anton and whispering in his ear.

“Yes! Yes, Chris,” Anton repeated, his hands balling into fists and clutching at the sheets. Chris moved one of his hands up over Anton’s back and let it slide down his arm, curling around his hands and entwining their fingers before he spoke again, his voice raw and rumbling low.

“I’m going to pull out of you now and turn you around. Then I’m going to make you come so hard you won’t remember anything but me and watch you loose it all over yourself. And while you’re catching your breath I’m going to paint your pretty face with my cum. Okay?”

Anton didn’t verbally respond, but nodded his head and Chris figured that was enough. He pulled out slowly, letting Anton feel each inch and placed both his hands back on the younger man’s hips, gently guiding him down onto the mattress and turning him around so he could look him in the face.

The red lipstick was smeared all around his lips and a few locks of his hair were plastered to his forehead. The red ribbon hung askew, but couldn’t escape the mass of honey curls it was nestled in. His grey irises had almost completely given way to his lust blown pupils.

“Chris”, he breathed. It made the older man lean down and brush their lips together in a soothing kiss, while his hands reached for Anton’s knees, pushing them apart. The younger actor let his legs fall open in abandon, his eyes sliding shut before fluttering back open, settling on Chris’ face. He looked about as much as far gone as Chris himself felt.

Chris slid down Anton’s body, his eyes locked on Anton’s until he felt his chin hit Anton’s erection, at which point Anton moaned and gave up watching him and just let his head fall back. Chris felt his own arousal pulse in between his legs and just about every synapse of his brain and even though he really, really wanted to draw this out, he found himself drawing one of Anton’s testicles into his mouth, delighted by the surprised cry the younger man gave when he suckled on it lightly. Releasing it, he licked up the stiff penis, tasting the precome that dribbled from its tip before he sat back up and shoved one finger right up into Anton’s still lubed and stretched ass pushing his fingers into his prostate and keeping them there.

Anton’s mouth and eyes widened, his whole body going taut with tension as he shot two, three streams of cum all over his own chest. By now the liquid was a little less milky than when they had started out. Pulling his fingers out, Chris climbed up over Anton’s lax form and placed his knees on either side of his chest. Anton raised a tired hand and let it rest on Chris’ left calf.

“Close your eyes. Open your mouth,” Chris directed, his nerves still thrumming with the need for release. Anton complied easily, a relaxed smile pulling at the corners of his mouth even as he opened it. Chris pulled at himself, the twist and jerk he knew to bring him over the edge each time. He groaned, releasing his semen over Anton’s pale face and bright red lips, a few drops hitting his hair.

“Oh God”, he groaned, drinking up the image of the boy between his legs. Anton closed his mouth, swallowing, before he let his tongue dart out, licking up the cum on his upper lip.

“Don’t open your eyes yet,” Chris whispered and leaned down to lick off a bit of his semen that had settled over one of his eyelids. He used his thumb to pull down Anton’s jaw and stuck his tongue inside the warm mouth, another moan rumbling in his chest when Anton licked the semen off his tongue. He lifted his leg up over Anton’s body, the lithe hand slipping from his skin as he sat down to marvel at the sight.

Anton’s eyes fluttered open just as Chris collected a few drops of semen on his finger that were previously running down Anton’s cheek.

“You look so profligate,” Chris praised.

“I have no idea what that means,” Anton responded with a lazy grin playing around his lips before Chris pressed his finger to them, spreading the fluid on the soft flesh. His thumb pressed lightly to the underside of Anton’s jaw, making him keep his mouth shut, while his other hand ran through the streaks of come on Anton’s chest, massaging a bit of it into of his nipples.

Anton made a little noise in the back of his throat and reached for Chris with his hand. Chris gave a smile and gathered some of the seminal fluid on Anton’s chest and added it to his own on Anton’s lips.

“Means you look like a whore,” he whispered before releasing his chin and leaning down to kiss him.

Both of them groaned and Anton raced Chris to lick and suck the liquid off of both their lips in between open mouthed kisses, before he shoved his tongue in Chris’ mouth and made him taste their combined flavour.

“Fuck,” Chris gasped and pulled back a little, licking his.

“I should have made you come on me and watch you lick it off.”

“You can do that tomorrow,” Anton suggested with a sultry grin.

“To-?” Chris questioned, his eyebrows rising. Anton’s grin softened to an affirmative smile, which was quickly inhaled by Chris’ lips that came crashing back down onto the other pair. He swung his leg back over Anton to be able to kneel over him more comfortably and enthusiastically ran his hands over Anton’s chest, lathering his hands with a mixture of sweat, cum and chocolate, massaging it into both of their skins.

His mouth left Anton’s, travelling over every inch of skin of his face he could find, kissing, nibbling, licking him clean of all remnants of cum, before plunging back in between the bruised lips that had by now lost all traces of lipstick but almost none of the bright scarlet colour and force feeding him everything his tongue had collected. All the while his hands busied themselves with counting the number of Anton’s ribs, or abs, or toying with a nipple or his belly button. They dug into his sides and spanned all over his rib cage making Anton feel far more delicate than he actually was. But, dear God, Chris’ hands were huge.

“You’re..” Anton said between kisses, clutching to the back of Chris’ head and engrossed by the weird feeling of Chris happily lapping at his face, replacing cum and sweat with saliva, mostly. “.. like a dog, slobbering all over me.”

“We taste delicious,” Chris murmured, pressing a sweet, close-mouthed kiss to Anton’s lips and drawing back from him a little. Both of them were out of breath, flushed and finally sated.

“Did you mean it?” the blonde asked.

“Mean what?” Anton asked back, blinking slowly and biting back a yawn. Chris smiled at the endearing sight.

“Tomorrow,” he simply stated. Anton only hesitated a bit.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did. Tomorrow. Or the day after. Or the day after that. I’ll stay… if you want me to,” he offered in a small voice seeming insecure and every bit his age for the first time this evening.

“I do,” Chris answered and watched a smile spring to life on Anton’s. He leaned down, kissing that sweet smile and was awed by the thought of being able to do this whenever he wanted to.

“We should shower,” he finally said and bumped his nose into Anton’s scrunched up one.

“And change the sheets,” the younger actor added. Chris sat back up and watched as Anton reached up into his hair as he sat up too and pulled the red ribbon from it, unceremoniously dumping it on the bed next to himself. He scooted to the edge of the bed and got up, a spring in his movements that would hide their activities from just now from anyone else, but told of them to Chris.

“Come on, old man,” he teased and pulled a reluctant Chris from the bed.

“The bed’ll still be here when we come back, but right now I really need that shower. I’m sticky all over.”

Chris lovingly traced a little chocolate on Anton’s left bicep gave a smile.

“Go on then. I’ll change the sheets.”

Anton looked slightly taken aback.

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I’m almost thirty now,” Chris sighed dramatically. “I fear my refractory period is slightly longer than yours, young Padawan.”

“Wrong movie,” Anton grinned. Chris lightly pushed him in the direction of the bathroom.

“Ensign then. Go on. I’ll still be here with the bed when you come back out. It’ll even be a clean bed,” he promised. Anton hesitated for a heartbeat longer. Then he reached for Chris’ hand, pressed a kiss to his pulse point and turned around, sauntering into the adjoining bathroom.

Chris sank down onto the bed sheets shaking his head to himself. This was the best birthday present ever. No moment he took for himself could possibly be long enough to grasp the wonders that had transpired in the course of this evening, he was sure.

He didn’t know how long he had stared into the nothingness in front of his eyes, trying to process, but when he heard the shower being turned off, he was startled back to reality and got up. Collecting the toys, chocolate and honey in the box he set it down onto the floor before he tore the sheets from his bed and bunched them up, dropping them down onto the floor too. Then he pulled another out of his closet.

Anton hummed to himself in the bathroom, Chris noted with a little smile, while he spread the fresh sheets onto the bed. He replaced the pillows and blanket that Anton had taken down earlier and casting a glance around the room saw his cell phone that had slipped from his pocket and now lay next to his jeans on the floor.

Zach! He had to thank Zach!

Grabbing the phone, he lay down on his stomach on the fresh sheets and opened his text messaging menu to type a very short message.

 _“I love you,”_ he typed and hit send, when a chin came to rest on his shoulder.

“It’s really not nice to tell that to another man when you’ve just fucked me for the past… I don’t even know how long,” Anton remarked with a dramatic sigh.

Chris rolled onto his back, a grin playing on his lips, reaching up with one hand to cup a cheek that was slightly reddened from the shower.

“Zach’s a clingy bastard, you’ll have to share,” he grinned and tugged at a wet strand of hair. The grin hopped from Chris’ lips onto Anton’s and took a turn down the gutter there.

“That could be fun,” he consented, making Chris arch two disbelieving eyebrows.

“You’re unbelievable,” Chris marvelled. Anything Anton might have replied to that was cut off by the beeping of Chris’ phone that alerted him to a new text.

 _“I hope he didn’t read that,”_ it read. Anton laughed out loud at that and Chris couldn’t suppress an amused grin of his own.

“See? He thinks it’s rude too,” Anton pointed out. Chris merely replied with a “yeah, yeah” and got up.

“I’ll go shower,” he announced looking down at Anton who smiled at him. It was a weirdly domestic kind of smile that gave Chris a sense of deja-vu despite the novelty of the situation.

“I’ll be here,” Anton replied and Chris thought it would be nice to know that someone was waiting for him in his bed when he stepped out of the bath room.

He was wrong. Anton’s form huddled into the white pillows and blankets was far better than just nice.

+++

**The End**   



End file.
